Instincts
by Psycho Kitty Alchemist
Summary: Just exploring a bit into the relationship between Valka and Toothless. Random one-shots. Post HTTYD2, so obviously there are spoilers.
1. Motherly

_I realize it's been well over a year since I last uploaded something onto here. Been meaning to for some time now actually. In fact, this particular piece was written shortly after I saw the second movie in theaters for the third or four time (I can't honestly remember). I know I saw it at least 3 times during the first week its release. Anyway, the point is this one is long overdue. So I'm posting it as is with very little editing done to it other than running it through spell check and catching what I could at a glance. Hope it was worth the wait, though I doubt anybody will recognize me at this point in time. Anyway, this was my attempt at exploring the relationship between Valka and Toothless. Ended up wondering off into tangents a bit with this one but I hope that's okay._

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_Creak… Groan… Squeak… Silence._

The floorboards had seen better days as a few seemed unwilling to take on even the first hint of weight without groaning in protest. The house was dark sans the moonlight leaking through the uncovered hole in the ceiling, creating a rather eerie atmosphere for anyone unfortunate enough to have not fallen asleep yet. The house smelt faintly of ashes and smoke, indicating that the occupants had likely gone to bed some time ago. It would've been creepy to have someone wondering about the dwelling at such an unholy hour, but she'd been given permission to take her leave whenever she so chose though it was doubtful this was what the main occupant had in mind when extending such an invitation.

Frankly, she wasn't exactly sure why she felt the impulse to make such an unannounced visit. She'd only been here once before and dared not wonder beyond the front room. Instinct had taught her against invading someone's nest and that had been drilled so far into her head that she could not bring herself to break it now, even for her own kin. And yet here she was, creeping about the house like an intrusive mouse that was too stubborn to leave of its own volition. There wasn't any particular reason for her visit. But something deep in her chest compelled her to invade the sense of privacy granted to one at night within their home to be here.

Maybe it was just her maternal instinct kicking in, but Valka was finding it difficult to ignore with each passing night.

Originally, she'd been planning on coming here alone but it would seem someone had other plans. Though he was too large to fit through the front door, Cloudjumper hovered outside, eagerly awaiting a sign that his rider would be returning from within. He'd contemplated coming in through the hole in the ceiling, but much like his rider, he felt uneasy invading a nest that was not his own. That and his sheer bulk on the rooftop was sure to wake someone up. Thus he sat outside the front door, his head being too wide to even fit through there courtesy of the splitting horn that sprouted forth from his forehead. He refrained from gargling a warning as best he could though his efforts could not suppress a groan from escaping.

The Stormcutter huffed indignantly, trying his best not to show any signs of worry while his rider wondered outside of his reach. After the fiasco a couple of days ago, Cloudjumper was far from eager to let Valka out of his sight for more than a few minutes. He doubted she was in any sort of danger but he liked being near her should the need to flee or fight arise. Thus he was left to wait, creating an bizarre seen for the odd fellow who was still up to see the Sharp-class dragon perched in front of the house at the top of the hill.

As for his rider? To be honest, Valka barely felt even the faintest bit relaxed within the house. Whether anyone was aware of it or not, she hadn't spent a single night with this particular roof over her head since returning to the island of her people a few days ago. In fact, Valka spent most nights nesting amongst the dragons in the stables, curled up between her own reptilian companions from the Bewilderbeast's nest.

Some of her rescued dragons were already beginning to take up roost on the isle of Berk. Even Gruff the blind Hobblegrunt was starting to make himself at home in the stables, though he still required to help of Lump the one-legged Snafflefang to make sure he didn't bump into things (or people) when he made the occasional venture out into the village for a meal or bath. Most of the time the duo relied on her multiple visits to the expanding dens as they were both still understandably wary of the locals. Thump the nearly flightless Raincutter had no such reservations as he happily hobbled around in the public, greedily snatching up fish from feeding troughs as if he'd been doing it all his life.

It hadn't even been a week yet and there was still ice around town that were marked as evidence of the beginning of the new alphas. Valka hadn't changed her clothes for a newer set and sometimes she caught herself longing for the feeling of her old staff in her hands. Still, she was finding it easier to be around people as she witnessed the Vikings' dote on their own dragons and saw how happy it made the winged basilisks to be loved by the people of this village. The same island town that used to kill them on a regular basis. The very same people who frowned at her belief in peace so long ago. The same old Vikings were asking now for her advice on how to better care for their dragon companions rather than shooting her nasty glares when she tried to force them to spare a dragon's life. Was this really the same Berk she'd called home twenty long years ago?

Valka shook her head in an attempt to dismiss such thoughts. Her braids quietly clinked together from the effort but otherwise left the room in uncomfortable silence. This was not the time to ponder her world being turned upside down on its head. The feeling in her chest returned and, before she could stop herself, she ascended the stairs, crouched down on all fours, with hardly a sound created in her wake. Old habits die hard it would seem.

Once at the top, instinct drove her to remain hunched near the floor. Valka remained stock still for a few fleeting minutes as she anticipated detection. But when nothing came other than the heavy breathing of another dragon, she crawled forward - still on all fours - and made her way further into the second floor room.

Even in the poor lighting, she could still distinguish the shape of the slumbering beast. His great gales of breath were impossible to miss. But she was stopped from approaching further. There was something about the dragon's outline that seemed off to her. Valka lingered in absolute reticence, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the lighting in order to decipher what was amiss. As her eyes accommodated for the lack of overall illumination, something else caught her attention. Something that nearly caused her to fall onto her back.

A pair of jade moons flashed in the darkness, lingering on her outline and boring through her skull. The only thing stopping her from feeling alarmed was that those eyes weren't narrowed in a threatening manner. Their black pupils, which seemed darker than the surrounding room, were as wide as a dinner plate, examining her in the silence between them during their staring contest. There was no malice in his gaze even as his head rose up from the ground however she was able to detect a level of benevolence there she was not in the least bit surprised by. It was then that Valka realized what was amiss about his posture; he was lying on his side. She cocked her head to the left in a curious manner, her posture adjusting to that of a crouched position with her right hand raised from the ground, but dared not venture closer.

A soft, groggy hoot greeted her ears. She blinked and, despite her caution, Valka couldn't help but smile at the sound. Taking that as a sign, she rose partially from the floor and drew herself closer to the previously slumbering dragon. His black outline was becoming more distinguishable to her now as her eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting. Once she was within arm's reach, Valka positioned herself in a squat once more, her elbows resting on her bent knees, and her smile still firmly in place. "Toothless," she greeted tenderly, allowing traces of adoration to enter her warm tone. The ebony dragon released a faint rumble in greeting while he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. It was a rather comical sight and Valka couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't using his paws to rub his eyes. Still, he gave no signs that her presence perturbed him as he seemed perfectly content having her wake him up before even the sun began to rise.

It would seem the Night Fury was more in-tune with what was going on than she was as he closed his eyes, cocked his head downward until his chin was nearly in contact with the front of his wide throat, and emitted a hushed chirp. There was a faint rustle followed shortly thereafter by a indiscernible mumble. The shift in movement drew her attention toward the dragon's chest, which was - much to her surprise - covered by the dragon's wings to form a cocoon constructed of leather and hollow bones. Without making a peep, the upper wing drew itself back and rose up above her head like a canopy, lingering overhead as if to shield her from the rain. The rustle of membrane and bone being retracted was hardly audible. The second wing quickly followed suit, only it extended out onto the thick rock the dragon lay upon. Once the outstretched appendage unfurled, it instantaneously drew back toward the beast's torso but this time did not cover his chest up as it merely tucked itself in as best it could. It did not return to its normal position however as the dragon was practically lying on his shoulder.

Valka, however, wasn't paying attention to this little detail.

Toothless emitted a drowsy whistle of sorts that tapered off after barely three seconds but she didn't react. Still, she did reach over to stroke the dragon's snout right above his nose with gentle, calloused fingertips to quiet the beast before he awoke the room's third occupant. She didn't know why, but Valka was mesmerized. She scooted closer while remaining in her squatting position, creeping forward at a snail's pace to close a gap that wasn't even a foot in width. In retrospect it shouldn't have shocked or entranced her to see such a sight. Even in the poor lighting it was easy to distinguish his characteristics against the underbelly of the Night Fury despite the lack of a light source to illuminate him. And yet Valka couldn't stop herself from finding the sight somewhere between adorable and saddening at the same time.

There, swathed in dragon limbs, lay her only son. He was sound asleep with an odd sense of calm about him as evident by the serene look on his face. At least the parts she could discern were. The left side of his head was jammed against the dragon's chest, moving in sync with Toothless's deep breaths yet he somehow didn't seem the least bit disturbed by the rhythmic motion. The back of his cranium was wedged in the crook of the dragon's right foreleg for support. Hiccup's unruly hair looked even more so and he reeked of a mixture of pine, sweat, dragon, and burnt hair. Judging by what little parts she could distinguish, it would seem Hiccup hadn't bothered to remove his leather armor plating before taking up roost against the Night Fury and calling it a day. She might have chastised him in good fun if it were not for the fact that it would make her a hypocrite in doing so. As for his own limbs, Valka couldn't say for sure. There wasn't a blanket or pillow in sight though she knew from experience sleeping against the belly of a dragon was plenty warm enough without some extra layers being piled on top of you.

Even now Valka had a hard time imagining Hiccup as the chief of Berk. Not because she lacked faith in him or felt he was too young to take such responsibility. No. It was because she recalled all the things Stoick used to do day-in and day-out without a single vacation. The tole it took on her husband when he came home exhausted and fighting through a splitting headache that two ice blocks could barely handle. Of the hard battles he fought to keep them safe. He always used to say that "_no task is too small_" and dedicated his life to the village. Yet despite this Stoick had still seen time to start a family though to this day Valka still didn't fully understand his reasoning for marrying her. Not that she regretted a day spent with him. But it was in remembering these things that the idea of their son taking up those reigns astounded her.

Stoick really had been right about their son all along.

Even before her abduction, Valka could see a bond growing between father and son. Hiccup cried frequently due to numerous illnesses due to his small size but, for whatever reason, he always became silent when held in his father's burly arms. The two just stared at one another in wonder. Hiccup would take a fist-full of father's beard and gargle happily while Stoick gently swayed side to side on auto-pilot. It was something Valka could never come to terms with. She often felt as if their son took no such comfort in her as he often wailed away despite her best efforts to bring him comfort. At the time, Valka couldn't help but feel powerless; that she was getting off to a terrible start at being a first-time mother. Stoick openly claimed to her on multiple occasions that he felt the same as her about himself when it came to their tiny son. He seemed so afraid he was going to drop or crush Hiccup when she all but thrust their son into Stoick's arms after hours of trying to get Hiccup to sleep. And, in an instant, all the crying came to a stop as their son forgot about his upset tummy in favor of playing with his father's russet beard.

A flash of remorse reflected in her eyes at the distant memory she'd long forgotten.

A somber smile graced her lips as she thought back on her son's terror at just the sight of the winged basilisks when he was only just coming to know the world around him. She remembered the little cyan dragon she'd hastily made for him one afternoon while Stoick carted their wide-eyed son around the deck of a boat, explaining the ins and outs of ship-life, as if he'd been raising children all his life. Stoick had been insistent that morning that the three of them should take quick a ride around Berk to show their son the place he called home. At first, Valka had been against the idea. She feared Hiccup would get sick again as he hadn't had much time to recover from his last bout with a tenacious fever. But they'd gone anyway, doubling their son's blanket bundle just to be on the safe side.

Valka readily recalled Hiccup's first reaction to the doll she'd made for him; he'd wailed before tossing it overboard in an attempt to get away. Stoick would later jokingly comment that Hiccup had a good arm, especially for someone his size, but Valka couldn't help but get down over the ordeal. If Hiccup was afraid of a stuffed dragon, then there was little hope he would be on her side with trying to bring an end to the fighting. This fear, coupled with her growing doubts, had not helped matters once she found herself in the nest of the great Bewilderbeast, convincing herself that Hiccup would be much better off without a mother who couldn't bring him comfort, who believed differently than the rest of the island, and who gave him terror in an attempt to make him jubilant.

But here Hiccup was; twenty years old and sleeping soundly with a Night Fury. There was no father to hold him in his arms to quell the unease in the boy's heart. In his place was the alpha dragon of Berk, his thickly muscles limbs acting as a makeshift cradle for his dreaming rider. The comparison tugged at Valka's heartstrings. The very beings Hiccup once feared were the boy's first thought to run to for consolation when the man who used to unknowingly bring such things to him was not of this realm any longer.

Valka sighed quietly, her bitterness of years gone by returning to churn within her uncertain heart. Even now she couldn't be the source of comfort her son so desperately needed. She couldn't rightly blame Hiccup either. She understood the sensation of feeling safe within a dragon's proximity and the longing that comes with it to seek it out again. To this day Valka felt protected within the wings of Cloudjumper, dangling several feet up in the air as the Stormcutter preferred to sleep upside-down.

"I'm sorry, Hiccup…" she breathed softly, her voice giving way to the sadness growing in her chest. She blinked, fighting back her tears, as she leaned forward to plant a delicate kiss on the exposed corner of her son's forehead without even bothering to move his bangs aside. Valka held her breath as Hiccup's brow showed signs of movement, a weak mumble falling from his lips that didn't sound like anything more than a childish whine before his face relaxed and he fell back into a content slumber.

The idea of leaving came to mind but Valka quickly shot it down. She'd promised Hiccup that she would stay in Berk. She had already failed at being a mother to Hiccup once and she wasn't about to let him down a second time. Stubbornness kept her rooted on the spot as she mentally berated herself for thinking such an option was plausible even for one second. However, Toothless seemed acutely aware that something was amiss. Even in his groggy state, the Night Fury knew what needed to be done in order to placate the elder Viking's troubles. He nearly scared Valka out of her tunic when she felt his wrinkled nose nudge her left shoulder, eagerly emitting a merry warble. She quietly shushed him, fearing of waking Hiccup up and having to explain herself to him, though she could not mask the faint smile the Night Fury's actions brought her.

It wasn't until that she realized the irony of the situation Hiccup had placed himself in. Though it was of no fault of the Night Fury, Toothless was the one to end Stoick's life. Drago was the one to blame and, though it pained Valka to even acknowledge it, a part of her still felt twinges of rage toward the man and his reckless ambitions. But the fact that Hiccup would willingly leaving himself so vulnerable in the dragon's presence spoke untold levels of the boy's compassion for the Night Fury and his willingness to forgive someone no matter what wrongs they'd caused him. These were two major characteristics a chief must have in order to maintain the peace; something she knew her son desired.

Toothless trilled quietly again, this time a hint of curiosity entering his twitter. Valka absentmindedly reached over to scratch beneath the Night Fury's chin, hoping to put his unease to rest before Hiccup was aroused from his slumber. The dragon seemed to be pacified as he lowered his head back onto the rock and closed his eyes. "Watch over our son," she whispered under her breath. Whether Toothless heard her or not was beyond her though she assured herself the Night Fury's right ear rose up at the sound of her voice.

Feeling a bit more at ease, Valka reached forward to gently grasp the outer ridge of the dragon's wing on the rock and slowly rolled it back up and over her son. Or at least that had been her initial intention. Despite trying to convince herself of otherwise, she hesitated just before her son's head went out of sight. Valka desperately wished to hold him in much the same way the dragon was now but she dared not pull Hiccup away from Toothless for fear of waking him up. He'd had a rough day and needed a long, uninterrupted break.

Realized what she was doing, the second wing began to descend over her head, stopping once it came into contact with her cranium. The motion drew Valka out of her stupor just long enough for her hurriedly shove the rest of the dragon's wing over Hiccup before scooting out of the way as the second descended down to join the first. Toothless was either too groggy to notice or knew better than to pry. Irregardless, he drew his head up and neatly tucked his nose beneath his wingtips, his heavy breaths causing an interesting echo as the heavy gusts of wind reverberated against the tough membrane. It was safe to assume the Night Fury was already sound asleep again and that, despite the racket, Hiccup was not going to waking up again anytime soon to find his mother being a bit of a creeper from his bedroom floor. This was reassuring to say the least. At least now she wouldn't have to come up with some lame excuse as to why she felt the need to visit him so early and not wake him up. Valka wasn't honestly sure how Hiccup would take to being woken up. Twenty years and she didn't even know if her son was a morning person or not.

Not wanting to indulge on another round of self-pity, Valka rose from the floor with far less caution in her motions than before. If Hiccup wasn't going to wake up from the sound of the dragon's heavy breathing, she presumed he wouldn't even hear her footsteps as she left. Valka took a deep breath before making quick, light sprints toward the hole in the ceiling. The lithe Viking gave pause once she was standing on the mattress made of wooden planks to spy a little blue head peeking out from the headboard, its button eyes heavily chipped and its once erect yellow horns having long gone floppy with age.

A short gasp escaped her as she knelt down on one knee to get a closer look. Slowly, afraid it would disappear if she looked away, Valka reached out and gently poked the toy dragon's nose with a single fingertip. Its head moved from the pressure but it did not vanish in a puff of smoke like she was half expecting it too. An astonished gasp crept past her parting lips followed quickly by a short, airy chuckle than tickled her nose. Valka knew it was the very same one she had made Hiccup as the stitches were all in the right places. Its uneven crest of spikes on the back of its head were as crooked as she recalled. She distinctly remembered having trouble trying to get that droopy nasal horn to remain in place on the front of the dragon's snout.

She couldn't help but wonder if Stoick had something to do with this as she highly doubted Hiccup would remember such a thing and go looking for it. It was a miracle the thing was still intact and only badly discolored from what she assume was water damage. The simple fact that the stitches hadn't rotted away yet was astonishing in of itself.

It was only then that she noticed Tooth's breaths had quieted. Valka couldn't stop herself from looking over her shoulder, finding Toothless watching her with half-lidded, sleepy green eyes. Her smile returned, this time revealing a few teeth, before she turned and grabbed hold of the bottom rim of the rectangular hole in the ceiling. She may have been an older Viking, but she hauled herself up with as much ease a something half her age and crouched onto the edge much like an owl. She could already see Cloudjumped coming round the house, ready to catch her to take her back to stables for the remainder of the evening. But, just before she let herself slip down the side of the house, Valka looked back inside one last time. Toothless was still watching her, but his head flopped back down onto the rock to watch her with wide puppy-dog eyes, silently begging her to stay. Valka's smile dwindled as she shook her head. She raised a hand to wave, mouthing the words "_good night_" before vanishing out of the dragon's sight completely.

Toothless lay there for a moment longer before releasing a pathetic whine, raising his head, and tucking his nose back in to go back to sleep.

Valka, having landed with practiced ease behind Cloudjumper's head, lazily lay against the dragon's neck as he spread his wings for flight. By the time they reached the stables, the elder Viking was sound asleep, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and burden lifted from her heart.


	2. Protector

_Again, sorry for the lack of activity on this site. I've still been writing quite a bit in my absence, but most of what I've been writing I doubt I'll ever post here._

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The night air was crisp, biting even despite the thick scales that made up his natural defense against the frigid squalls. Normally, on nights like these, when the full moon lit up the evening sky with nary a cloud to mar its brilliance and the stars twinkled their congratulations to the influential, crater-incrusted sphere, it was not unusual for his feet to be nowhere near solid ground. But tonight seemed to be anything but typical. For starters, he was currently sitting on the ground, his back to the moon's glowing, welcoming facet. For another, his shoulders did not ferry the welcoming weight of his best friend; his saddle empty and his wings tucked neatly against his sides. Even stranger still, Toothless found himself sitting alone, his luminous green eyes riveted upward as if held in a silent trance.

The lone Night Fury sat on his haunches in much the same manner as a human, his spine nearly creating a ninety degree angle with the ground and his front legs hanging limply against the front of his torso. His tail was splayed out behind him, having long assumed that if anyone was out and about at this late of a hour, they wouldn't be heading in this direction to trip over his long appendage. His pupils were wide but his ears were flat against the back of his neck.

Lately, he would give anything to avoid being separated from his friend. For in doing so, he was left to his thoughts and wondering things best left forgotten. It should have all been water under the bridge, but even now Toothless found himself wondering what might have been. It likely wasn't helping matters that he was staring up at the stone monument carved right out of the side of the mountain in remembrance of the late chief of Berk; the only man to ever have been felled by his fire.

It was all the dragon could do not to release a painful keen as his shoulders slumped at the thought. Uncontrollable as the act may have been, Toothless still felt icy fingers tightly lace around his flighty heart at the mere mentioning of Stoick the Vast, even if it were only in his mind. Sometimes he felt his behavior that day - despite it being entirely against his will - was inexcusable. But Hiccup … He never showed signs of blaming him. He never looked at the dragon as if he was the cause for all his troubles nor pointed any sharp remarks that would inevitably kill Toothless slowly from the inside out. It was debatable as to whether or not Hiccup even knew he held such a power over the Night Fury and, even if he was aware of it, Toothless knew his friend would never intentionally do such a thing.

Even now Toothless could remember some of the things he'd said to him said when they were flying high above the village, his voice quivering with the pain of loss and desperately grappling for an invisible line. _Come back to me. It wasn't your fault, bud. They… made you do it. You would never hurt him. You would never hurt me! Please, you… are my best friend, bud… My best friend…_ Hiccup's shaky delivery had been just enough to pull Toothless back out of the Bewilderbeast's control, freeing him from the unseen chains that had driven him to commit murder.

When he was with Hiccup, it was easy for Toothless to believe his soothing words. He found he could readily and willingly believe in his friend's forgiveness. This wasn't to say that Toothless never thought about it, but it was much more manageable for him to grapple with his feelings, move past them, and get through the day without dragging his friend down. Hiccup needed him and, come Helheim or another Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus, Toothless intended to spent the rest of his life at his friend's side.

And, while it might have seemed strange to others, Toothless took great comfort in Hiccup's presence. Though the young Viking chief was by no means intimidating, strict, or even cruel in his words, Hiccup instead came equipped with a gentle hand, a sincere understanding, and an ever-expanding heart. And it was these tools and the fact that the boy had returned to the dragon the flight he had unknowingly robbed him of that Toothless took great assurance in simply being around Hiccup. There was an undeniable sense of honesty from the lanky Viking that the Night Fury could not deny. Toothless would go so far as to say he felt much safer around Hiccup if he could ever find a way to express such an emotion. This sense of security had nothing to do with his flight situation. Simply having Hiccup next to him, regardless of his mood or expression, was more than enough to make Toothless feel secure and, should the need arise, invincible even in the face of Death. He could look a Bewilderbeast straight in the eye and fight until his lungs felt ready to burst so long as Hiccup was there to give him the courage needed for such an act. And it wasn't even that Hiccup had to cheer him on or come up with another one of his crazy, last-ditch-effort plans either. His very existence was more than enough for Toothless. A smile, a quick scratch behind the ear, and knowing Hiccup was safe were more than enough in payment for the Night Fury to feel it was worth every ounce of his strength.

So then… just what did that mean for Toothless when Hiccup wasn't around?

It wasn't that his personality changed simply by removing the Viking from the equation. More often than not, when such a situation arose, Toothless would do everything in his power to get himself back within Hiccup's reach sooner rather than later. He'd grown so accustomed to the Viking's presence that it was discomforting and awkward not having him at least within earshot. Without Hiccup's consoling words and reassuring touch, sometimes it became neigh impossible for Toothless to ignore his guilt. He hated to admit it even to himself but, every so often, when left to his own devices, Toothless would start to wallow in a sea of his own self-inflicted shame, regret, and bad conscious. It was at these times that it became so much easier to forget Hiccup's comforting words and, in their stead, came his friend's harsh accusations and unwelcoming actions. _NO! Get away from him_, Hiccup had shouted as he shoved the dragon's nose aside in a way that shocked Toothless even now. _Go on, get out of here!_ But he didn't want to. Toothless desperately didn't want to be alone and, childish as it may be, he sought forgiveness for a crime he had did not intended to commit. _GET AWAY!_ As much as it pained him, the Night Fury obliged and fled the scene. At that time his heart was broken and, though he hated to even acknowledge such a thing, Toothless almost welcomed the control of the Bewilderbeast as it meant escaping his guilt if only for a little while. Being alone, scared, and sorry beyond words was anything but desirable, especially when the one person he wanted to hold the most made it clear he wanted nothing to do with him. The very idea that Hiccup hated him was too much for Toothless to bare.

So, when he was left alone like this, sometimes it was neigh impossible for the Night Fury not to dwell on past transgressions. The feeling of Hiccup's uncharacteristically unkind hands roughly shoving his nose aside as if they were swatting away a large bug was still all too real to Toothless. He wiggled his nostrils, remembering the sensation of frigid fingers and violent palms forcibly thrusting the dragon's snout away. Not that he necessarily blamed Hiccup for his behavior. Though he hadn't been in control of his body at the time, Toothless could still vaguely recall his friend's cries to snap out of the curse and could still smell the fear coming off of Hiccup in undeniable waves. It was still all too real for him. His current lack of company and location likely weren't helping matters either.

Try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling that some of this was his own fault. He shouldn't have let Hiccup approach Drago or even have landed anywhere near the tyrant. But Toothless believed in Hiccup's ideals with as much vigor as the sanguine Viking and very self assured in knowing that, even if Drago had tried anything, he would be fast and strong enough to protect his friend. But he hadn't foreseen the Bewilderbeast being turned on them. Toothless had fought hard against the beast's mind control but in the end it wasn't enough. And it had cost them dearly.

With a huff, Toothless turned his nose down, raised his left paw, licked it, and scuffed it against the side of his snout a few times. It was a very cat-like motion, one he couldn't readily remember where he learned it. But the action worked as a way to metaphorically wipe his mind of such thoughts. Feeling as satisfied as he could, Toothless tilted his head back to return to staring up at the intricate statue before him.

At the moment, Hiccup was currently holed up in the Great Hall and had been there for the better half of the day now. It would seem several of the villagers were insistent on staying up - even if it meant they pulled an all-nighter - to come up with a final solution for what remained of the Bewilderbeast's ice that still stuck up around the town like giant glaciers. There was also the ever present problem of trying to figure out how to make more room for dragons as more and more of Valka's previous nest dwellers were coming to Berk for shelter by the day. And with these dragons came the ever-increasing strain of trying to find enough fish to feed them as well as the villagers. Some seemed to feel like the Vikings were getting the short end of the stick when it came to food shortages even before the addiction of several hundred new dragons decided that Berk would become their new home. Most dragons were thankfully capable of feeding themselves, but they were eating up all the nearest schools of fish far faster than Mulch and the rest of the fishermen could catch and bring back for the people. They'd barely had Hiccup as the chief for a week and a half and already they were demanding such high-risk decisions to be made out of him.

A late-night flight always seemed to be just the right medicine for Hiccup. But tonight it would seem such a remedy would not be on the list before bedtime. Yet another depressing thought to be bunched in with the others, causing the Night Fury to groan deep in his throat and his wings to droop at the top joints.

"Rough day?"

Under normal circumstances, he would have heard her coming. But his muddled thoughts and troubled huffs must have drowned out her approach. The simple fact that her steps were even, one foot not being favored over the other, gave way that she was not her son. Her light footfalls were a definite indication as to her identity even if her voice was not a clear enough answer of who she was. Or why she was chastising him for that matter.

With an unamused snort, Toothless cocked his head downward to the right and found a pair of pale olive eyes to greet his. They weren't crinkled with amusement as her tone might have initially lead others to believe. Her lips were a short, narrow line while streaks of worry creased the skin along the outer corners of her eyes and exposed brow. It was an expression Toothless had long come to learn meant concern. It was interesting to see how it looked on different people. Hiccup's was almost always accompanied with fidgeting, Astrid was liable to promptly seek out a way to cheer you up more often than not, Gobber wasn't one to fret, and Stoick tended to mutter under his breath. So what was Valka going to characterize her signs of worry with? The dragon had watched the way she handled her son way back when they'd first encountered her after establishing that she was not their enemy.

Toothless was knocked from his musing by the feeling of a placid hand being placed on his broad shoulder. This was followed quickly thereafter by nimble fingers massaging light circles along the grooves of his exposed scales, kneading the flesh underneath in a comforting motion with the gentle touch one would use to manipulate soft dough. The slender Viking stood at his side, her plated upper armor no where to be found, leaving her in just her simple, stained yellow tunic. Her eyes never strayed from his either. It was something Toothless had long become accustomed with from Hiccup who, while he often avoided prolonged eye-contact with people, was comfortable in having a staring contest with the Night Fury in order to decipher the dragon's emotions. Through observations of his own during the past week or so, Toothless had also come to understand that the elder Viking was far more comfortable around dragons than her own kind. It might have been strange to others, but it was yet another thing Toothless was accustomed too; Hiccup was the same way. Mother and son had quite a bit in common it would seem.

Truth be told, Valka was aware something was wrong even before she'd spotted the Night Fury sitting alone at the base of the statue of her late husband. Or so Toothless was left to assume once he realized Cloudjumper wasn't within his immediate line of sight. His acute hearing did not detect the bulkier Stormcutter's approach either. These past few nights, she and Cloudjumper were in the air more than they were on solid dirt, often awaiting the arrival of the Night Fury and young Viking chieftain to join them on their final laps around the island late at night. They spoke little, simply basking in the comfort of the others company, leaving all their worries and fears on the ground where they were out of sight and mind. Sometimes Hiccup would vent about a thing or two (mostly something someone said), but more often than not he seemed content just being back in the saddle and letting Toothless decide their route around Berk.

Obviously, when the pair didn't join them for a late-night flight, Valka must have known something was amiss and came looking for them. Toothless felt his heart sink. Was she disappointed? She didn't appear to be. The Night Fury shut his eyes tightly, raised and turned his head away, only to find that when his eyes were open again, they weren't gazing up at the statue any more. In its place stood the double doors of the Great Hall, one door slightly ajar to allow light and shouts to pour out. It would seem he'd turned his head a bit too far when he looked away from Valka. Movement drew his attention when he realized the doors were shifting. Toothless released a sharp bark that was rapidly cut short upon realizing that it wasn't someone coming out but rather another going in. But while it meant Hiccup still hadn't come out to join him, Toothless realized that this _someone_ entering the hall was likely going to look for him.

Cloudjumper…?

The sight confused him. Why was the Stormcutter going inside when he'd made it clear on one occasion that he detested close proximity with such a large number of Vikings. Cloudjumper, understandably, did not like feeling trapped within a human dwelling no matter the size of the room. The Night Fury emitted an inquisitive hoot and his wedge-shaped head tilted so far to the right that his corresponding ear dangled limply from his head. "He insisted he go alone," Valka began to explain with traces of amusement melting behind her maternal apprehension. Toothless couldn't fathom what she meant by that. Something the dragon liberator seemed to readily understand when the ebony wyvern did not turn his head to look at her. Her skillful fingertips danced to a new beat right above his elbow while she sought a way to explain the Stormcutter's bizarre behavior. "Cloudjumper's seems to believe Hiccup's ignoring one of his more… relevant duties." There was a light chuckle in her pause as she sought a way to paint a clearer picture in the Night Fury's mind. Toothless blinked before righting his head. His nostrils flared as he released a great gale of wind before turning his head one final time to look down at her. His confusion must have been evident as Valka's lips twitched ever so slightly on the left corner to give way to the beginnings of a smile.

Did that mean that she knew? Or was she merely under the impression that the Night Fury was throwing a silent tantrum about being shut out of the Great Hall by Spitelout? Did she even know about that? It was hard to take a gander at just what the woman was thinking. But, judging by the look in her eyes, Valka knew. Perhaps she realized how much flying at night meant for her son. And, in understanding this information from her own experiences with the freedom that came with flying, Valka readily recognized what needed to be done. It was possible she also, on a more sympathetic or even selfish level, disliked the idea of Hiccup being cooped up against his will. Was this her implicit way of protecting her son and safeguarding the things he loved most?

Now that Toothless really thought about, her logic made sense. If she walked in and dragged her son out of there, the people would be in an uproar and fight against her. Toothless had seen how awkward Valka was around most of the villagers and, given her past, he couldn't readily blame her for it either. The people who had previously shunned and scorned her were now acting more presentable to her and even asking for her advice. If she barged in there now, did she risk losing what little positive light she had in their eyes? But surely such a thing would be worth it to her. Hiccup was her son after all. But the more Toothless thought about the matter, the more he understood the Stormcutter's logic. Obviously, everyone would know how he was and who his rider was. But Cloudjumper was far larger than Valka and, in going in her stead, she would have the option to argue that the Stormcutter barged in of his own volition to kidnap their chief right before their very eyes. The mental image such an idea brought forth made Toothless chuckle quietly under his breath.

Even from so far away, the Night Fury could have sworn he heard Hiccup shout something along the lines of an indignant complaint while several of the other Vikings drowned out the sound with their own different levels of vociferation. Toothless could easily imagine Cloudjumper biting the back of Hiccup's leather plating and lifting him up much like a mother cat would her kitten by the scruff of their neck.

"Come on," came Valka's words of encouragement as she lightly pat the Night Fury's elbow. She motioned to take a step in front of the near vertical beast before pausing to look up at him. Toothless followed her with his eyes, rotating his head at the shoulders to keep an eye on her once she stood before him. A tired smile reached her lips and her brow finally smoothed out most of its previous wrinkles. "He's going to need you once Cloudjumper gets him out if he wants to avoid being dragged back in." Whatever her original reasons for seeking out the Night Fury, Toothless understand what she was saying to him now loud and clear. He smiled down at her, his own lips pulling back to reveal unarmed gums as a way of expressing his gratitude for her devious assistance. Valka's smile, in turn, widened just slightly as Toothless turned ninety degrees to drop down on all fours.

Up ahead, one of the Great Hall's doors was being pushed open again from the outside and Cloudjumper's tail slithered out from the widening crack. He was already backing out, leaving them with very little time to get there before the Stormcutter had Hiccup completely free from the rest of the Vikings. The dragon rider's shouts were getting more rambunctious and almost discernible too. They didn't have much time.

Understanding this, Toothless did something he rarely offered to others. He stepped in front of Valka, halting her from going forward, and lowered his chest down to hover just above the ground. Such a thing was unnecessary, but Toothless hoped in doing so he would make his message very clear to her. The Night Fury looked over his shoulder at her, rotated his right shoulder, and released a short, baritone yip before glancing very quickly to his saddle. It took barely a second, but Valka quickly came to understand. Which was good because they were losing precious seconds just sitting here gawking at one another.

Valka made quick work of climbing into the saddle, though she notably did not place her feet in the right stirrup nor did she grab hold of either metal handlebar to help brace herself with. Toothless felt her thighs tighten above his shoulders and her palms press against the back of his neck right above where the saddle ended. Both of those and the way her weight was being distributed indicating she was laying nearly flat against his neck. She apparently weighed about the same as Hiccup. Yet another eerie similarity. It took Toothless a split second to remember that saddles were a foreign concept to Valka. No matter. They didn't need to fly after all. The Night Fury was likely faster on his feet than her, so carrying her there meant saving both of them some time waiting for her to catch up.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Toothless crouched down before bolting forward, his claws raking up the dirt and across stone as he propelled himself forward at a vaulting speed. Valka never slipped from her position, though she did noticeably whoop quietly in excitement as the Night Fury bounded forward. All this mischief was certainly getting to her. Cloudjumper was nearly out by now, his back almost entirely visible, so they only had a few remaining seconds before he dragged the last of himself and Hiccup out of the Great Hall.

Looks like they were going to get their midnight flight after all tonight.


End file.
